Tuesday, 4 December 2018

Update 4th December 2018

Hi All

I have been a bit lacking on this updating lark...I do love writing still but I have had so much stuff going on that I have struggled to really sit down with my laptop. I am generally burned out by the end of the day so I generally go to bed. Come 9pm when boys are in bed then I don't want to do anything at all. :)

But tonight I sat and wrote a few chapters of my book, I updated my Twitter Feed which I haven't done in so so long and so, as I was on a roll, figured that I should update here too.

Not a lot has happened really, I have had a busy few months. I have just got back from a fantastic weekend away with my beautiful Best Friend, Claire. We went to Edinburgh and it was amazing. Definately somewhere I will look at going next year with the boys. Edinburgh is the only place where they house the UK's only pandas and as Oliver is a big lover of the black and white, bamboo munching bears then we figured it would be a good excuse to take the boys away...that is coming up next year.

The past few months have flew by and I am not really sure what I did with them if I am completely honest. I have been steadily progressing on my GCSE Maths course. I have hummed and ahhed about my career and where I want to be and where. I have stressed my little noggin out about it all. I am torn between a few different career paths and yet if I am honest I want to do them all...but I know that isn't possible. I would love to be a midwife; but I think about the time I will have to be away from the boys, so I have been soul searching. I would love to do that job and go through the training but the boys lives have been affected so much over the past 2 years, I really don't want to be away from them. Being a midwife will be demanding, as I am expecting it to be....I wouldn't expect anything else, but I am not sure whether I can justify doing it when the boys are still so young. I know people do go on and do it with kids, but I want to be here more, not less. So, I have been looking at what else I can do that I would enjoy. Sure, I love writing, but how likely is it that I can make money from it....even if I did make some money from it, then it would never been enough. I cant stay in my job forever, I am starting to feel less and less like myself the more time I spend there. It just isn't the same anymore; there is no progression. I have been stuck in the same role for 13 years and I always feel like I am never fully appreciated for the work that I do. So I want something else before I get bitter, I am generally smiley and happy but once I sit on my seat at work then I feel the life drain out of me. Does that sound melodramatic? Well....its as close to the truth as possible.

So, what can I do that might make me happy....I have always liked the thought of working with children, always liked the thought of working in a school, so I have been looking at teaching assistant roles. Doing a teaching assistant role would suit the boys so much more; I would have the holidays off with them and I could work with lots of little people. If I end up liking it; or loving it, then I can look at becoming a qualified early years teacher. If I hate it and decide that its not for me, then I still have plenty of time to go back to Plan A. I am not settling really....its just a case of finding something that suits the boys and Stew. If it means me sacrificing what I want to do and doing something that is maybe not at the top of my list, then I will do. I actually feel excited about it at the moment. I have enquired about apprenticeship schemes, which yes...I wouldn't be getting the same pay I get now, but it would be so much better for me to have all of the same holidays with the boys. And I feel like I could actually be a good teaching assistant - I mean, I am a bit of a kid at heart myself ;)

Hopefully my next update will be closer to me saying that I am doing more of what I want to do....

Thursday, 6 September 2018

Its been a while...

Listening to: - Billie Piper - The Best Of (via Spotify)

What can I say? I like cheesy pop music...

Watching: Stew is watching Judge Romesh….that dude is funny!

- - - - - -

As many of you have probably noticed, I have been a bit quiet on here of late. I have had a lot of things going on personally, as well as trying to reassess what I want to do with my life.

I have spoke before about how much I want to write; whether it be a television programme script or a book and that is still a dream of mine, but I have dug deeper within myself and decided to reach for something that I never thought I could or would ever be able to do.

When I was younger and before I was a mother, I used to look on with appreciation and respect at nurses and midwives. I often wondered whether I could do this type of job and as with most things I beat myself down and told myself that I would never be able to do it. I told myself that I wasn't brainy enough, that I was too common, that I didn't have enough determination or that I was too 'emotional' for that type of work.

Then when I had the boys, I met a wonderful community midwife. A lady who was with me from pregnancy to birth; someone who I trusted and who I could rely on when I had doubts. She was such a lovely person; very down to earth and made me feel at ease throughout. I envisioned having a career like hers where I would help women to enjoy or at least 'get through' pregnancy. I played with the idea but still I put myself down and told myself that I would be able to do it; that it would be too much like hard work and I would fail at the first hurdle.

Then Stews accident happened; I lost our baby and we lost Stews Dad, all in the space of  years and I decided that I wasn't wasting anymore of my life. I decided that I was going to 'Try'. I still cant believe that I will be able to do it, but if I at least 'Try' and really give it my all then I can never say that I didn't 'Try'.

So, I started researching Midwifery as a job; started searching courses and joined groups on Facebook. With every bit of information I found out, I felt my heart race that little bit more, but not with fear but with excitement.

I still love writing and I hope that one day I can realise my dream of getting a book published, but like photography then I could be happy 'not doing it' if I couldn't or if it didn't happen.....with midwifery I feel like I really really want this. When people say that you have to have passion for something, then I know what they mean. I want to realise this dream, I want to help women through pregnancy; the good and the bad times. I want to help born babies into the world; and I want to help those that like me don't get to take a baby home with them.

I researched universities and chose Wolverhampton University as a place that I would like to aim for. I studied the entry requirements and felt myself doubt myself even more when I realised that I had a lot of work to put in before I could sign up for a Honours in Midwifery.

5 GCSES at Grade C or above - Including Maths/English and a Science qualification.
Plus Access Courses at 45 credits Merit/distinction - with some transferable experience within your career history.

I have GCSES at Grade C in English, although I do intend to improve this grade but Maths has never been my strong suit; mainly because I never paid attention in school. I have enrolled on an online Access to Nursing and Midwifery Course via Distance Learning Centre UK which looks daunting....Again, I found myself doubting whether I would pull it off, but I am determined to give it my best shot.

My confidence was knocked slightly yesterday when I went to Walsall College to do a GCSE Maths assessment - I agreed to sign up for an evening class with one of my closest friends, Claire. The assessment was hard with questions about fractions/Mean Numbers/Percentages and measuring. I was lost entirely and now wait to hear whether I have obtained a place on the course. The tutor told that I scored under what is required to access the course but if they don't get enough students signed up then they may be able to offer me a place.....I smile and said thankyou, my cheeks burning red with embarrassment feeling like a complete failure at the first hurdle and I went outside and berated myself before crying. Stew says that I am way too hard on myself and I know he is right but my confidence isn't great at the best of times and I have been telling myself for so long that I would never be able to do this in a million years....but I wont let it beat me. If the college decide not to offer me a place then I will continue with my access course and brush up with my maths skills via research/GCSE books and BBC Bitesize and then I will re-apply next year for Maths and English.

This isn't going to be a easy journey and there may be many more times when I sit in my car and cry, but I am prepared to give everything to get into this career....and if I get there and realise that I don't like it??

Well...at least I can be happy in the knowledge that I got there!! And if I can do that then I can do anything. :)

Wednesday, 13 June 2018

The Love Islander!

Last year I never got the buzz from the popular, twisted love reality show.

I didn't even give it a try if I am honest, I seriously could think of better things to spend my time on and found the constant babble about it annoying, but this year I have caught on to how addictive the show is! I wouldn't say I was a fan girl or anything, but I do go glossy eyed at the mention of a contestant!

I don't completely hate the heavily made up, greased up, scantily clad people that walk around the 'love island' as much as I thought. There is a part of me that finds myself staring way too long at one of the sexy males thighs or even the many pairs of boobs....(seriously, they have underboob out any everything...how can one even look away?

I mean, yeah...I am not a fan of Eyal...he talks way too much! And reminds me of Ramsey from Game of Thrones with his annoying drone! And I don't really like Adam, who seriously loves himself WAY too much..... does he realise that he looks a bit of a numpty at times...but I am enjoying watching the 'Big Brother' style show. 

To say that I look forward to watching it each evening would be the GODS Honest Truth! :D 

I was disappointed to find that Niall had left though, he was my favourite! I loved how he spoke, he wasn't too 'muggy' at all. 

The coupling and re-coupling of the males and females does my head in a little....I know its a show, but I just cant get my head around someone snogging one person one day and then spooning someone else the next...but maybe I am getting old and boring!

What I would like is a big old drunken punch up! I would love to see DR Alex kick off and beat the shit out of Eyal....That would be entertaining to see! That Dr has took way too much shit already. Nobody fancies him! Nobody wants to pair up with him, except for Somali who is kind of in the same boat....and he is already second best to the other 'knob-jockeys'.

What is wrong with those girls? Alex is probably the best looking guy in there! Are they insane??

DR Alex is hot to trot!

S x

Sunday, 10 June 2018

Love Island

Last year I missed all the hype about Love Island.
I have never really been a fan of Caroline Flack and she helped to steer me clear of the show. As the popularity of it took off then I wished I had followed from the first episode but there was way too much to catch up on so I just gave up.

This year, I told myself that I was going to give it ago.

Yeah, sure the annoying Flack woman is presenting it, but so far I have only seen her once.

And Yeah, the girls make me want to slap fake tan on and saunter around in a bikini (If I owned a bikini).

Sure, the boys make my eyes pop out of my head as they flex their pecks, which are always shiny! The type of shine which attracts the eye and has you following the contours of the many muscles they are harbouring. 

And yeah, the romances are as fake as 'knock-off' perfume from a market seller...

...But I still find myself switching in to see what is happening, everyday. 

I already love Dani - She is Danny Dyers daughter and she is charming and funny, reminding me a bit of Stacey Solomon. 

I find it funny to watch the couplings; those that are forced and those that seem to be moving towards a more serious nature. 

Tonight 3 new people came to the island to shake things up a bit! 2 Guys and 1 Girl!

It may sound sad.....but I am looking forward to tomorrows episode!

I am a Love Islander Groupie!

Driving me Mad

It has been almost 18 months now since I started driving and little by little my love of it is waning because people are such JERKS on the road!

When Stew drove (before his accident) I used to laugh at his 'road-rage' moments. You know the ones! He's driving along, someone cuts him up or doesn't give way and he swore and called them all the 'colourful' words he could think of. I used to laugh, I put it down to him being hot-headed and I even commented that he should let it go over his head and ignore them....just concentrate on driving, I said.

Man, I was a knob! Because I now understand the anger from having a 'rubbish' driver around you...and little did I know that there are SO many of them.

I never remember noticing the 'pillocks' too much on my driving lessons, but I notice them now.

If they aren't overtaking you because you aren't going quick enough on a 30mph road or not giving right of way on an island; or reversing at you and checking their blind-spots enough then they are driving so far up your arse, they are almost in the car with you.

My biggest bug-bear is when they don't give right of way though, especially on an island. Not the usual moments when they don't see you come round the bend on an island, I have enough time to see them and slow down...that doesn't bother me too much, even if I do huff a little, but I have had people pull out at the last second and I have had to pretty much STOP on an island as they saunter past, always looking straight ahead, never looking back at the car they cut up in case they get the ever needed 'Wanker' hand gesture.

When I first learnt to drive, I enjoyed it a lot more than I do now. But the 'bumholes' on the roads kill my love of driving.

Lets not even get started on the kids on bikes who ride right 'smack-bang' in the middle of the road whilst looking back at you smugly as you are forced to drive at 5mph!

No...lets not mention them!

Thursday, 29 March 2018

Update 29/3/2018

Hi All

This past week has been busy to say the least! We had throat infections last week. Oliver wasn't very well at all and had all of the week off sick. He was suffering with a high temperature and a really sore throat. The poor little man didn't want to eat and he spent a lot of time lying around doing nothing. Ethan turned 7 last Thursday and he woke to presents and a Pokémon Balloon. The years are going by way too quickly and I looked at Ethan with tears in my eyes. He has become an amazing young boy, full of life, always inquisitive, always eager to learn and always cheeky. I love him for the person that he is inside and out and cannot be any prouder of how he is growing.

Ethan went to school as normal and spent the day showing off his 7 Birthday Badge. He was happy to play with his best friend, Daniel and came out exclaiming that it was the best day of his life. Once home, he opened a few more presents, including Minecraft Storymode for PS4, Star Wars Remote Control Fighter and Lego. We are sitting here looking at his many birthday cards as I write this; he hasn't wanted to take them down yet. For tea we went to The Keymaster Pub, Hungry Horse.


The boys had hotdogs and chips. Carrots for Oliver, Veggie sticks for Ethan.

Stew had waffle and chicken mess on a plate.

When it came out then it didn't look very appealing, but he said it wasn't too bad, but he failed to finish it as some parts were very spicy.

I surveyed the menu for a long time, I had been having a rough few days with a tummy bug and I wasn't feeling very hungry, but at the same time I didn't want to pay expensive for something small like a salad. So in the end I had the Chick 'n' Mix which was plain chicken on skewers served with salad and rice with sweet chilli sauce.

As it was Ethans birthday then the boys wanted ice cream as a treat so they both had an ice-cream sundae which was a lot bigger than it looked on the menu. It was off the children's menu, cost £2 and was amazing! The boys loved them!

Friday and Saturday were relaxed - school runs, spending time with family and generally vegging out. On Sunday we took the boys to Thomas Land as a birthday treat for Ethan.


It started off well, for the first time this year the sun shone down brightly and it was lovely and warm. I spent the day with my coat off. We got there for 10.50 and the queues to get in were immense! We waited patiently, showed off our tickets and entered the gates where crowds of people were waiting to get on rides. We decided to get food out of the way first, so rather than joining the many huge crowds then we found a little pizza place, ordered food and enjoyed a small meal. At this point Ethan started to complain of tummy ache and said that he wasn't very hungry. We put it down to him being too excited, so we forced a bit of food down him before we headed off. It started off well. The boys went on a couple of rides together and hopped onto the carousel with me. Stew still struggles getting on and off of rides, so he waited patiently on the edge whilst we whizzed around on the galloping horses. We were about to get into a queue for Captain, when Ethan started crying. He was complaining of headache and saying he felt poorly. Not like him at all. He has always loved going to Thomas Land and loves going on the rides with me, especially Diesel Mayhem. I stayed with Oliver and Ethan went and waited with Stew, who took him for a sit down and a drink of water. When I got back to them after riding the water ride with Oliver then it was obvious that Ethan wouldn't be able to go on much else. He was so pale, he was tired and he didn't feel like being there at all. I took Oliver on one more ride and we decided to take them home an hour earlier.

It is such a shame that his day was ruined by him being unwell. But we have plans to go back again, as we always do and then there is Harry Potter Studios later in the year too.

The rest of this week has been work, school run, work, school run. We had the boys parents evenings last night and despite some comments regarding Oliver that I am not sure I agree with then I am happy with how they are both getting on.

Now it is the Easter Bank Holiday and I am so relieved. I feel like I am running on empty most days, running from one place to the next.

We have a date with Paw Patrol tomorrow in Walsall for Breakfast, So I will bid you Goodnight!

Have a fantastic, chocolatey Easter everyone! Hope the Easter Bunny doesn't nibble your carrots!

S x

Wednesday, 21 March 2018

Ethan Richard Geary

Dear Ethan

The moment I saw you, I knew you would be someone special.
You lay in my womb for almost 10 months and each kick and movement resonated within me. I felt as you grew inside me and waited very impatiently for you to be born. The days ticked by and eventually around 5 days past my due date you were delivered to me and your Dad.

I was groggy from drugs when I first saw your face; you were being dressed by the midwife and I could hear your cries but not see you. The anaesthetic was playing tricks on me and I was a little in and out of it, but I was determined to liven up so I could see you. You were brought over to me and even though I couldn't hold you, I happily soaked in how you looked. It was a few hours until I was able to hold you properly as I had been heavily sedated and my arms weren't strong enough to hold you at first. You were born around 9.30pm on 22nd March 2011 and I was able to hold you properly around 3am the next morning. There is a moment that I will never forget. They had taken me out of the observation room and were taking me back to the ward. They placed you in my arms as they wheeled the bed and we had this moment. Both of us looked at the other at the same time and we simply stared at one another. Your eyes narrowed slightly and your brow furrowed as though you were wondering 'who the hell I was'. And then your brow smoothed and you simply stared at me. There was no crying, no pulling of faces; you simply looked at me.

From that moment you have gone from a wonderful, bright, cheerful baby to a sensitive, intelligent gentle crazy soul. With every step we have watched your likes and dislikes change and watched in awe as you thrived in all things that you put your mind to. Your reading and word learning came on brilliantly and you were telling the time before you were 3 years old. You have a good chunk of me and your dad in you. Mentally you sponge information and retain it in your beautiful mind, as your father does. And you are a chatterbox and have a kooky sense of humour, like me. I would like to think that you get your sensational good looks from me too.

You love your family; work hard at school and you are building a loving/competitive relationship with your younger brother, Oliver.

Each day that you are in our lives only helps to make our days better. We love watching you grow and I hate the thought of the day when you will leave home and not need me as much. I want to stop you growing and hold on to you forever. I look back at your baby photos and realise that I marched through those days in a blur. I wish I had slowed down a bit, I wish I had enjoyed the nappy days, the sleepless nights and the endless CBeebies just so I could mentally take a picture of every moment I made with you. I want to slow down your growth, I want to stop you getting any bigger, because I know I will miss 6 year old Ethan as I miss newborn Ethan and 2 year old Ethan and 5 year old Ethan. Every stage you held onto my hand as I guided you on the right path.

So, tomorrow you will turn 7 and we will celebrate as we always do. We will give you presents and then we will take you out for a meal after school.

Please always remember that we love you, you make us so proud everyday. From the constant babble you make to the fact that you are a Minecraft fanatic. Everyday that I am alive I will always have your back, and as much I hate to see you grow,  I look forward to seeing where your future leads. Wherever you go or whatever you do, I will always be by your side and will always Love you.

Happy Birthday for tomorrow Pudding.

Mom xx

Monday, 19 March 2018

Ant McPartlin

Unless you aren't in to watching or listening to the news, then you have probably seen the latest on Ant Mcpartlin.

The 42 year old Geordie presenter was yesterday arrested following a collision he had with two other vehicles. The news stated that a 'drink-driving' charge had been given.

Twitter-verse and Social Media feeds alike were ablaze with the news that he had been out drink-driving. There was also news of a 3 year old girl being injured in the crash.

Some called for his immediate dismissal from ITV programming; some felt sorry for the family television favourite, especially as this isn't the first time in the last 2 years that he has been in the spotlight for personal reasons after admitting himself into rehab for substance abuse and then publicly divorcing from his wife of many years.

The news was fresh off the press last night and facts about the crash were hazy, although online newspapers and broadcasters confirmed details as though they were 'fact'. The details about the 3 year old were limited, but we still heard that she was 'seriously' injured and that she was admitted to hospital. The internet was up in arms. This man has been well loved for years, but nobody could condone the injury of a child. People slated him, his behaviour and even had a go at his mother for allowing him to drive (She was in the vehicle with him). I am one of those that agree that he should get help, I do think he should be convicted as someone out of the public eye should be; whether that means imprisonment, etc. But I do think that he will be beyond guilty over what he has done.

We don't know the full story. Did he drive out after having a skin full? Was he still drunk from the night before after an ALMIGHTY bender? Was he simply enjoying one too many drinks with lunch and thought he 'was fine' to drive? None of this is fine, none of this means he SHOULDNT be punished for what happened, but he is still human. He made a mistake; yes it was BIG one, but it was still a mistake.

I don't think we need a witch-hunt or a 'slate on his character'. What he does need is help from the producers of his shows? Does this not show that MAYBE he wasn't ready to get back into the limelight? I saw the episode recently of Saturday Night Takeaway when he and Dec drove monster trucks. After driving his car, Ant came away with a knocked up arm. I watched as he struggled to deal with the pain from that, he appeared jumpy and on edge. Was he concerned about how people would perceive him if he didn't ride through the pain? Was he worried that people would wonder whether he was using painkillers excessively again? Or was he edgy for another reason?

I do hope he gets himself back on track. I have been a huge fan of Ant and Dec since there 'Byker Grove' days and I have followed there careers ever since. I used to be a big fan when I was a teenager and had their posters on my walls.....I also have an embarrassing confession - I used to wear the same red shirt and pin-striped shirt that Dec wore in a number of posters I had of them. OH Dear!

Come on Ant! Don't give up! Ride it out, take your punishment and come back fighting!

Monday, 12 March 2018

This Month...

This Month I should be preparing for you to arrive. 
This Month I should be feeling you swirl and tap dance in my tummy. 
This Month I should be washing and rewashing your tiny clothes eager to put you into them. 
This Month I should be fed up with pregnancy; groaning daily and eager for it to be over.
This Month I should be eating my body weight in pickled onions or other foods I crave
This Month I should be talking to you repeatedly through the skin that parts us.
This Month I should be counting down the days until you arrive.
This Month I should be too big to drive around in my car.
This Month I should be complaining of heartburn and swollen ankles. 
This Month I should be on maternity leave, enjoying the thought of the months ahead.
This Month your brothers should be welcoming a new sibling, someone they would love.
This Month I should be holding you for the first time in my arms after you have been born.
This Month I should be bringing you home to add a very welcome addition to our family.


This Month I am plastering a smile on my face and trying to act like I am okay.
This Month I am crying almost daily at the days and memories I wont be able to make.
This Month I am picturing what you would have looked like and long for you painfully.
This Month I am carrying on at my work; trying to forget that I lost you.
This Month I am carrying on for my boys, and not showing them how sad I am.
This Month I am trying to push onwards and hoping April will be better.  
This Month I sneak glances up at your memory box before I go to bed each night, knowing that your ashes are safely stored away in it. 

This Month I miss you; I never had you, but I miss what you would have meant to us. I miss what you would have brought to our family and I miss the memories we wont now be able to make. 

This Month I love you as I would have if you were here, but This Month I ache for you. 

I lost you months before now, but This Month you should be Born. 

Always thinking of you; always missing you, always wanting you. Never forgetting. 

S x

Sunday, 11 March 2018

Mothers Day

Happy Mothers Day to all the amazing mothers out there.

We have been spoilt haven't we?

Pretty mugs, boxes of chocolates, even alcohol...(Because lets face it, sometimes we need it) 

The cute faces on our children as they hand us hand decorated cards is generally all we need, even if we do get covered in felt print and glitter.

And if that wasn't enough we got the 'obligatory' extra hour in bed. 

This 'sleep-in' was obviously disturbed as the boys raced around downstairs, making all sorts of noise and creating dramas over whose breakfast bowl was whose, with the occasional 'blue' word from my husband as he tripped over the dog for the hundredth time, but it was a lie in!

And it made a change from being badgered into getting up and downstairs by Oliver who had woken up hungry.

His first thought is always food! In fact, most thoughts of his are food related.

Once I got downstairs I was enticed by Ethan to a game of Minecraft.

We built maze-like tunnels around his self-created land, whilst he spawned lots of wolves....I have no idea why.

After dropping Mothers Day gifts off and having Sunday Dinner with my family, we came home and chilled.

I showered all 3 of my boys. That is Ethan, Oliver and Harry.

I thought showering Oliver was difficult! He usually screams the bathroom down as I wash his hair, asking me or rather begging me to not wash his eyeballs. 

But the dog tonight was on another level. I had one hand on him whilst I bent down to shower him; he was trying to escape which had me almost slip over a number of times...and when I did finally finish showering him, he wanted to get back in...

Needless to say, I was absolutely drenched, but....he smells gorgeous now and his fur is lovely and soft. He is now currently snoring next to me. 

Today has been quite normal really; back to work tomorrow. I am on a countdown now until Ethan's birthday in a few weeks. He will be 7!

How on Earth did that happen??

S x

Wednesday, 7 March 2018

Save me TV Series

No Spoilers

Wow, has anyone been watching that new Sky Atlantic show, Save Me? It has Doctor Foster star, Suranne Jones and Walking Dead actor, Lennie Jones.

If nobody has watched it yet, please give it a go! It is a 6 parter (we are 2 episodes away from finishing it) and it has a fantastic cast, a brilliant script and a superb story! It is dramatic and thrilling from beginning to end.

The show follows the story of Nelly (Lennie Jones) who is turned inside out when he realises his estranged daughter, Jody has gone missing. Nelly isn't exactly the most innocent of people, with his rough background, fiery temper and his womanising ways, but when he finds out his daughter is missing, despite not having had a relationship with her, he makes it his mission to find out what happened to her. The script and character interaction is fantastic! His ex-partner, Claire (Suranne Jones), who is the mother of Jody interacts really well with Jone's character as they struggle to come to terms with their daughters 'abduction'.

We still haven't got to the end of this series yet, but I am looking forward to seeing how it ends.

Definitely put it on your TBW (To be watched) list.


Saturday, 3 March 2018

TV Shows we watch.

Its no secret that I love a good series to watch. Me and Stew always enjoy watching boxsets and if we are really into a show then we can be known to watch a few episodes of a particular show in one sitting.

Here is a list of some of the shows we watch and my opinion of each. These are my opinions, not of the shows networks or producers. I have no connection to the shows whatsoever:-

We have enjoyed watching Walking Dead since it first started; now at Season 8 we still continue to watch it. The show is entertaining to watch and I have enjoyed some characters more than others....cough, cough...Daryl....but overall it is a good show.

But...and I say this without wanting to diss the show too much....but. I think it has lost its spark a little. Negan is like a big bad pantomime villain. Yeah, sure, he killed Glenn in a vicious way, but since then he has been like a big angry, grinning pussycat. He is a dick, don't get me wrong but I don't feel that he is a big scary character even though I do kind of like him. There are times when I just wish someone would wipe that smug look off of his face, but I do actually prefer him to Rick. The fact that he has such a big group of people willing to fight for him means that he is always covered from attack.

I do feel that this series and maybe last one too dragged out a bit. If you placed all the bits from the episodes together that truly matter then it probably wouldn't add up to much footage. There are times when I feel that an episode doesn't really give us anything and it kind of leaves me disappointed especially when I have waited from the week before to see it again. With the slow build ups and 'deliberately' not killing off fan-favourites then I do wonder how long this show can go on for.

Gotham is a series based around the world of Batman, but PRE Batman. It has Ben McKenzie of The OC fame. He plays a young James Gordon who struggles daily to make Gotham a better place. The show is dark and graphic in its portrayal of the shady city. The appearance's of familiar comic characters make this a firm favourite with my husband. Penguin is a vile, greasy whiney man; Riddler is a geeky, enigmatic fool and Alfred has quite right hook and a rather British 'likeable' air about him. And Bruce Wayne is a kid who is having to come to terms with the deaths of his parents whilst he goes through challenges which will ultimately lead him down his 'fateful' path towards tight leather and the 'bat-mobile'.

As with most comic book television runs then this does have twists when it comes to the characters. The Villains come and go regularly with some preferable characters over others. I have to admit that this isn't my favourite show, Stew prefers this one. I find it very dark, the humour at times isn't that funny and I really don't like Penguin. His face is enough to put me off food! But saying that, there are some fun elements in this film. I love the interaction between Bruce and Alfred and I enjoy the 'romance' between Bruce and Selina (who will ultimately become Cat Girl) - We have just finished season 3.

We love this show. The first season was watched within a week, I love the 80s feel to it and the script is amazingly well written. The cast do so well to deliver this story. We have started season 2 but i feel it is a little slower than the first one, but I have also been watching it whilst I write on here, so I haven't been paying enough attention. We are going to revisit the episodes and start it again.

Great show though!

13 Reasons Why.
This is one of my favourite shows ever! I loved it, the script and characters were well written. I loved seeing Hannah's story unfold, even if it was so heart-breaking at the end. I really wish her and Clay could have come together and be happy. It is such a bitter-sweet story. I have only recently realised that this is based on a book; I will make sure I search this out so I can see whether it differs any from the series. There is a second series coming out, although I do wonder where they can go with the series since the end of Season 1. But I will be sure to give it a go. 

When Stew suggested us watching this then I wasn't too sure about it. I am not mad crazy about X-Men style stuff and wasn't sure it would be for me. I liked the fact that the guy from Tru Blood was in it and Fred from Angel (Buffyverse) but despite some reservations with the first episode then I kind of liked it. It got more and more interesting as the series wound on. There were some cheesy moments and predictable parts but not a bad watch. 

We have been hooked on this show since the very beginning, it is so entertaining. Every type of emotion runs through you as you watch this show; horror, intrigue, sadness, heartbreak, shock. It is best to NOT get attached to any characters though as you never know how long they will be around. The show knows how to entertain and the producers and the cast do a fantastic job of keeping us viewers watching. The fact that there are very few episodes left until the very end is quite sad. I hope they do it justice; this has been such a great show, I would hate to HATE the ending...like Dexter.

We have watched every episode of this show and it was so so good. The writing was brilliant, the show never let itself get stale and left on a high note. The characters were believable, enjoyable and completely entertaining. I love Steve Buscemi, he did a fantastic job at playing Nucky Thompson. He was quite scary at times, although how he ever got any woman to fall for him is beyond me!

This is another series that we have finished but what a show! I loved it! Again, amazing script, it kept you on your toes from the very start. Walt was a glorious, amazing character and he brought some fantastic scenes to our screens. Those who haven't watched this, please give it a try. It really is a slow builder, but you have to stick with it. It gets so much better than what it first appears. 

That's it for now folks, I have got tired, it is late and I need to get some sleep before my two jerks wake me up in the morning. :)

Thanks Guys. I will write more about the shows I watch in another post soon.

S x

Thursday, 1 March 2018

Snow'n Hell

Now the news on everyone's lips is the 'Beast from the East' or in other words the heavy snowfall we have had or are having. Some areas are more affected than others, some areas are buried deep with snow, such as Scotland. Others like here have only really seen a small pattering of snow until today. Tonight has been a bit blistery. The snow is like very fine grains of sand; it is being blown around by Windy Emma and creating snow drifts here, there and everywhere.

Its bloody cold out there though, which I am sure you have all heard spoken over and over again. Us Brits like to state the obvious don't we?

I am sat here trying to write a new post and I have got a tad distracted by EastEnders...I am catching up on about 8 episodes and am watching Abi's funeral. Max is reading a poem for his deceased daughter and I have tears streaming down my face. EastEnders can be very cheesy at times, but on days like today it can be tearjerking! I know Max is a scoundrel but I do feel sorry for his mushy face at times.

...and then he places a picture of Abi's daughter on her coffin...I am going again! Damn you EastEnders!

Well this post completely went off track...started about snow and now its about EastEnders...

....so....Its cold out isn't it?

S x

Wednesday, 28 February 2018

Tainted Love

Short Story
by Stephanie Geary
The steam from the boiled kettle rises and I blink myself out of my reverie and slowly go through the motions to make myself a cup of coffee. I add sugar and stir absentmindedly whilst adding a dash of milk from the milk jug. My mind and body are moving in slow motion and I gingerly take my hot cup to the kitchen breakfast bar and climb up onto a stool, my eyes moving around the room but unseeing. I knit my hands together on my lap and bite my lip, wincing at the pain. My mind is trying to figure out today’s events; I know I am in shock, but I need to figure out how my life got to here.

I hear the distinct sound of a cat’s meow and I see Tammy, our tortoise-shell feline enter the kitchen. I wonder whether she can sense that something is wrong; does she know what has happened here today? I get up slowly and go through the motions of feeding her. Tammy is rubbing herself around my legs, but I don’t pay much notice. My mind is elsewhere.

I return to the breakfast bar and take a few sips of my coffee, the bitter-sweet taste hitting my senses and allowing me a moment of clarity. Once I finish my drink I instinctively carry it straight to the sink and wash it up before drying it vigorously and placing it neatly into the cupboard dedicated to mugs. There is never any time to breathe in this house, never any time to relax. Everything must be done as he demands it, whether it be cleaning, talking or even how we dress. My husband is not one to be disobeyed. He makes the rules and we obey them. So I wash this cup up quickly and without delay, any mess of any kind would only bring on a torrid of abuse so I do anything I can to avoid it.

My mind wanders back to the day I met him, and I wish I could go back and tell myself to walk away. I wish I could yell, plead or even beg that stupid naïve girl to run as fast and as far as her legs could carry her. But then I remember, without him there wouldn’t be HER and she is the one shining beacon in the whole of my bleak, ugly world. Our daughter Gabby is coming 8 years old and she is a beautiful, intelligent little girl. She has her fathers looks but her mothers heart and I am very glad of that. I know she sees how her father is; she sees his anger and his violent out spurts. Gabby sees and hears my terror of the man she calls Daddy, but she has never spoken of it. Of all his faults, he has never placed a hand on her. He has shouted at her and spoke viciously about me in front of her, but he has never physically hurt her. Trevor keeps all that special treatment just for me.

When I first met Trevor, he was the most wanted man in the town, every girl wanted to date him. But not me. I had just got out of a relationship with my long-term boyfriend and I was ready to enjoy my single life for a while. Trevor saw me and wanted me. He chased me for weeks before I finally agreed to go on a date with him. He knew how to hook me, knew how to get me to fall in love with him and it didn’t take long. After only a month of dates I was well and truly besotted. He was charming and made me feel special. I would have followed him everywhere. And I did; within a few months I had moved out of my parent’s house and had moved in with him. Within the year we were married. Up until that point he was the perfect partner, he was always bringing me gifts and telling me how much he loved me. It was too much at times, but I liked it.

It was the little things that changed at first; he started coming in later from work and the gifts became less and less. There were less declarations of love and more naggings. He complained that his shirt wasn’t ironed properly or that his dinner was undercooked. The complaining was meant to confuse me, to make me pander to him. I promised to do better. I had got used to the feeling of being special and started to feel useless as a wife. I felt like a failure and told myself and Trevor that I would try better. Each day I was told something else was wrong, until eventually he took a disliking to the clothes I wore. He said it was because he didn’t like other guys being attracted to me and suggested I wore less revealing shirts and I did as he said. I stopped wearing tops with low cuts and wore trousers all the time. Whatever I could do to make him happy I did.  The shower of love he gave me came intermittently and it made me eager to get those feelings back. I grasped for any attention he gave me and eagerly lapped it up when he was in a ‘good mood’. In the beginning he never physically hurt me, it was mental abuse I endured at first, but I wasn’t to know that I was being abused until much later. There were good days back then, days when I was made to feel special again, days when I didn’t feel lacking as a wife. I welcomed those days and reminded myself that Trevor loved me and that is why he reminded me when I got things wrong. He was simply looking out for me, or so I thought.

Bit by bit I retreated into our home and stopped seeing other people in my life. My parents, my friends; they all stayed away as they always felt unwelcome and I spent so much time cleaning the house and making sure it was perfect that I never had time to visit them.  Trevor preferred that, he liked that I depended on him for company, that I had nobody else to look after me. The more time that went in between seeing other people, the less I missed them. When I found out I was pregnant, Trevor convinced me that I was better off staying in the house to keep me safe and I believed him. I busied myself with online shopping and brought nursery items and decorated our babies room. The days of my pregnancy ticked by slowly, but Trevor’s mental torture went on despite the growing baby in my belly. He bellowed at me when dinner was late on the table, ridiculed my weight as my body grew to accommodate the baby and complained at me when the housekeeping wasn’t done to his standard. From early morning until late into the night I was hoovering, cleaning, dusting, washing, mopping, wiping, scrubbing and drying. Every part of our home was spotless, but he always found fault with something; always found a spot I had missed or faltered over a cushion being out of place. There was no let up. He made me feel so low, I was tired, suffered terrible morning sickness, and my ankles were badly swollen, but I couldn’t rest. If I sat down to catch my breath he would make sarcastic remarks and ‘joke’ that I was lazy.

My naivety stopped me from questioning how he was treating me. I figured it was just his way of showing he loved me. I believed him when he showered me with love on the days he was happy. And I excused how he spoke to me, putting it down to him being stressed by his tiring job.

When Gabby was born I was expecting the whole situation to do a U turn. I thought it would show him what was important, but the birth of our daughter which should have been one the best moments of his life only helped to make him worse. It was evident days after we had come home from hospital that he wasn’t happy and when he was woken up during the night, he swore at me to get her out the room and I spent most of my nights sitting downstairs to avoid disturbing him and igniting his anger. Trevor didn’t spend much time with our daughter and he hated to see me with her, I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time and I wasn’t sure why he seemed so distant with her. Now, looking back I see that it was jealousy. For so long in our relationship he had me at his beck and call and then he had to share my attention with a defenceless crying baby. Those nights when I sat up alone with our baby were some of the loneliest yet beautiful of my life. They were bitter-sweet. I hated not sharing those moments with my husband, but I loved spending those same moments with Gabby. Her small hands wrapped around my finger and held on tight as I held her against my breast to feed. Remembering those dark, quiet nights bring tears to my eyes. I was still adamant that things would get better, that she would win her Daddy’s heart as she had done mine. I was stupid to think that he would come around, stupid to think that I could change him. If anything, he got worse. Gabby has witnessed so much heartache and if I could wish just one thing it would be that I had gotten out when I had had the chance. I should have taken our things and escaped before things went too far. But what is the point of wishing to change the past when it is not possible?

When Gabby was six months old, I was attacked by my husband. This would be the first of many times that he struck me. That first night I had been feeding Gabby when he had insisted that I come to bed, he made comments that I had been a prude since our daughter had been born and he had a right as a husband to feel loved. I laughed timidly thinking that he was joking, but he wasn’t. I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t in the mood to argue. I told him that Gabby hadn’t finished feeding and he approached me, fire burning in his eyes as he lifted her from me and placed her in her crib. The screams that rose from her tore through me, she was hungry and was venting her frustration the only way she knew how. Trevor shouted for her to shut up and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me roughly up the stairs. My heart was racing, the cries from our daughter ringing in my ears, my stomach churning as I longed to hold her to me, to comfort her. The emotions raging through me were too much and I still thought I could say no. Trevor had never gone this far before, he would stop if I said so. I pushed him away from me, releasing my arm from his grip and told him that I needed to go back to Gabby. Before I had a chance to turn away from him, he grabbed me by the throat and pushed me roughly against the wall. With this free hand he slapped me hard across the face, and his angry eyes bore into me, he told me to never try to push him away again. My head bumped roughly against the wall as his hands tore at my clothes, ripping the material. Our daughter’s cries had faded slightly, could she sense that something bad was happening?

My hands hung loosely at my sides, I knew I should fight but I was in shock. With his grip still around my throat he pulled me roughly into our bedroom and threw me onto the bed. I looked at him pleadingly and tears sprung to my eyes. Raising my hands in defence I told him that I didn’t want this. To my astonishment, Trevor laughed. He laughed at me. Trevor poked fun at my post baby body and told me I was a rubbish wife. The shame I felt washed over me. I looked at this man, the man who I loved, and I didn’t recognise him. All at once I saw the man he was, the bully that had always been hidden from me. I trembled in fear as he covered my body with his, he pulled my underwear aside roughly and raped me on our bed. My mind tried to go elsewhere but the pain was too much, he was so rough with me and I couldn’t breathe. The pain and fear I felt were unmeasurable. Once he had finished he rolled off me and he pushed me off the bed. Trying to keep as much dignity in tact as possible I gathered the bits of material that were my clothes around me and left the room silently. I managed to make my way downstairs, the pain between my legs burning with every step and when I reached the crib I looked down at my sleeping baby. Once I saw that she was okay I let the tears fall. I wanted to scream and shout, but I didn’t want to give Trevor more fuel to come back for more. A part of me died that night, but still I stayed with him.

From that point onwards, my life with Trevor became a nightmare. I no longer saw him as the man I loved, but rather the man I lived with who terrified me more than anyone or anything else. The physical and sexual abuse were daily occurrences; with every strike and every forced sex act I felt another chunk of me fall away. I considered telling my parents, confiding in them but it had been so long since I had seen them I didn’t want to have to tell them what he was doing to their daughter.  I should have left but I couldn’t make myself do it. I was too frightened of what he would do to me if he caught up with me. My only concern was my daughter, making sure he didn’t hurt her. Trevor didn’t pay much attention to her as she was growing, didn’t care too much about the milestones she reached or when she started calling him Daddy, but he never put a finger on her. Not that I ever trusted him around her. She was never out of my sight, I made sure she was safe from him every waking day. Not only with what he could or might do to her, but what she witnessed him do to me. There were times when he got a bit physical with me that she met my eye. I would say sweetly for her to go to her room and shut her door and she would obey, looking back occasionally as though she knew what I was going to have to endure.  And again, I should have taken her away from it all, but I feared him coming after us and taking her from me for good. She was all that mattered in my dark, relentless torturous days. Gabby was the reason why I got up of a morning, the reason why I could carry on.

The years had been hard for me, but if I kept her safe then that was all that mattered. He could do whatever he wanted to me, but not to her.

Today started like any other, I made breakfast for Gabby and got her ready for school. As we were going out of the door she dropped my mobile phone which cracked the screen. We were rushing out, so I left it on the kitchen counter and left hurriedly, not thinking of what Trevor might say if he saw it. When I let myself in this morning he was sat at the counter, holding my phone. The fear in my stomach, the feeling that is always there revved and churned, causing me to feel sick. The look in his face was both anger and satisfaction. Trevor loved belittling me, loved seeing the power he had over me, loved making me terrified of him.

He threw my phone at me and asked me what had happened, and I started apologising in reflex. Trevor saw the fear in my eyes and jumped up out of his seat and punched me hard in the face. I cried tears of frustration and touched the spot on my mouth that had connected with his fist. I could feel it swelling and could taste the metallic taste of blood. That wasn’t enough for him; grabbing my hair he pulled me to face him and spit into my face. I wiped it away, but this angered him more. Shoving me roughly away from him he asked again what had happened. Crying and shaking I explained that Gabby had dropped it as she had exited for school that morning. The shame creeped over me as I tried to shield myself from him by using my daughter as a reason for him to not beat me. He looked at me, twisting his hands deeper into my hair calling me and our daughter bitches, Trevor’s face showed disgust as he mentioned our names telling me that our daughter needs to learn how to behave and that he should have a harder approach with her…

My thoughts are broken by the sound of the telephone in the hallway ringing. I get up and wipe the tears from my eyes. The caller ID indicates that the number is withheld, and I chose to ignore it knowing that it is almost time for me to leave to collect Gabby from school. I don’t have time to take surveys or sign up for new windows; my daughter needs picking up. It is almost 3pm and I need to get a move on. Walking steadily to the coat-rack I glimpse myself in the mirror and run my tongue over my broken top lip which looks red and sore; a deep cut running up to just underneath my nose. I wonder if I have time to cover it up but realise it would need a lot of work to hide it. If I get asked by one of the moms how it happened, then I can make something up. I have got good at that over the years. I button my coat up and pull my long hair out of the collar, wincing from the pain on my scalp.

Then I head back to the kitchen to collect my car-keys. Tammy eyes me suspiciously from her spot on the floor before turning her head, nestling down and resting herself against Trevor who is lying motionless on the floor. I am sure I should feel guilty for leaving him lying there in his own blood, but at this moment I feel nothing.  

I am not sure if he meant what he said to come out so sinisterly, but I pictured him with his hands on our daughter and I saw red. After all the years of torment I saw him for what he was finally and without thinking I grabbed the nearest kitchen knife off the counter behind me and jammed it into his neck. The look of shock in his eyes will live with me forever. He was as shocked as I was. Stumbling weakly, he grabbed at his neck, blood spurting out and onto the kitchen floor. He slumped down and stared blankly upwards, the life draining from him.

I watched as he took his last breath, hardly realising that I was holding mine. The relief I felt when he died was so tremendous I started to laugh. I laughed and laughed until I started crying. Then I waited. I waited until the guilt and panic took over, but I felt nothing. I was glad he was dead.

Tears sting my eyes now but only because I wasn’t sure what my future held. What I did know is that this man in front of me would never ever make me feel worthless again. From this point forward, I would never let a man rule me, never live in fear. Turning my back on him I return to the hall and collect the packed bags for me and Gabby. I really wasn’t sure where I was going but at least I know we would be safe.

1.2.3.....Writing Rant

It’s probably obvious from how many posts I create, but I kind of really love writing.

I always have done.

When I was young(er) I used to create short stories and poems, even winning a couple of contests at school. When I was really little I always wrote in a diary and documented my days. This was from a very young age and I continued with it up until I was around 16. Some of these diaries I still have today.

When I was in my final year of school my dream job was to be a photojournalist, which is why I applied and got accepted for a place on the GNVQ Advanced Media and Communication course at Walsall College.

It had everything covered in the course.

Photography, radio production, tv production, even journalism. It was a perfect way for me to find my niche. My dream changed, suddenly I wanted to do everything that I was learning. I wanted to be a presenter, wanted to work in film, I wanted to write for a celebrity magazine and I wanted to do photography as a career. I didn’t have one focus, I wanted to do it all.

But life took over, I finished college and was more interested in setting up a home with Stew and I settled down. I have always and still do love my life with Stew and we have two wonderful boys together, and for a while I dabbled with my photography and I was satisfied with what I was doing.

But the type of photography I was doing was not what I had wanted to do originally. I was doing weddings, photo shoots, etc but I had always wanted to take arty photos and have a gallery opening, it may be a big dream, but it was always something I pictured myself doing if I went down the photography route. I have also always liked the thought of shooting glamourous shoots for glossy celeb magazines. One must have a dream after all.

Since doing photography work the past 10 years then I have stepped away from my camera for a while. I was happy doing what I was doing but I looked back over my life and personally I was happy but career wise I was nowhere near where I wanted to be. I looked back at what I wanted to do when I was at college and I wasn't actually doing anything I wanted to do. Yeah, I was in a cushy job, got paid well for working flexible hours which enable me to work around the boys and the school run, etc but what happened to the dreams I had when I was 17? Those dreams I had of working in TV and the dreams I had of writing for magazines or creating a screenplay that would be adored by all who watched it...

I have created a fantastic photography portfolio with my business and have got thousands of photographs of weddings, babies, etc.

Unknown to some, I also used to present at the Walsall Hospital Radio. I had my own Sunday morning breakfast show slot. I presented the show for a couple of years. :)

Those dreams from college are still in there...and at what point do I say to myself that I want to go for them again?

Do I forget about them and just ignore them? Do I wait until I get to a point in my life that it WILL DEFINATELY be too late to try? Or do I grab the 'bull' by the horns and put myself out there?

Well....if I fear anything more, then it is the image of me getting to a ripe old age and looking back with regret. I want to say I tried. It doesn't matter if it didn't happen, as long as I tried. So I have been writing more content, getting my fingers tap-tap tapping on the keyboard and blowing away the cobwebs in my imagination and have been spewing out poems and short stories. This is just a way for me to get back into writing on a more regular basis. I have been Twittering and engaging with other bloggers. The amount of bloggers I have communicated with is phenomenal. To date I have over
2000 followers and I have accumulated those since December. I use my writing page to create short stories and poems. It helps to showcase my work, get feedback - good or bad and just gives me an audience for what I produce. I don't expect big things to come from what I write, but the fact that I am trying makes me feel better about the whole 'not having done it sooner' feeling.

I have reopened the files that my book has been saved on and started going back over my notes. The story I am writing is kind of a supernatural/fantasy genre and it is far from finished....in fact, I have only just scratched the surface with it.

There are a ton of writing competitions I want to enter too, but I just have to think of what I want to write. All I have to do is try to get myself out there and hope that someone notices me.

And if they don't that's fine, because I will always be happy with knowing that at least I tried. If I don't try then I only ever really have myself to blame.

S x

Monday, 26 February 2018

'Honour' Walking Dead (spoilers)

So, following the mid season break, Walking Dead came back with a bang tonight! It was packed from the beginning with emotion, drama and it totally tugged at the old heartstrings. The aptly titled, 'Honour' was a 'cry-fest' from the start.

The opening scenes were powerful to watch, with an even more powerful song called 'At the Bottom of Everything' by band, Bright Eyes. I have literally never heard of this band before, but I have already added them to my playlist on Spotify so I can hear more of their stuff.

I'm Awake, Its Morning - Bright Eyes
A link to the song is here...
We came back to where we left off last year, with most of the group underground and devastated and numbed by the realisation that their boy cub, Carl (or as Rick calls him, CORAL) had been bitten. Anyone who knows Walking Dead and the whole zombie outbreak storyline know that this for sure signed his death warrant. There was talk online from forums and social media that this was a stunt by the show producers to keep us coming back and that Carl would survive this injury. Some suggested that it was a dream, others suggested that he would be immune to the killer-zombie-creating-bug...Some people suggested that they would merely cut the bite out, as they did with Hershel when they chopped his bitten leg off in Season 3, but I really couldn't imagine them cutting parts of Carl's stomach out and couldn't see it working.

The episode started with a strong, emotional montage as Carl seemed almost accepting of his fate. He wrapped up his wound, shared a chocolate bar with his new friend and set up the bunker for his friends and family to hide in.

We got to revisit the moment he was bitten (why didn't he fight more....it was like he wanted to be bitten) and saw as he wrote letters of goodbye to all of the people who mattered the most to him (because he had nothing but time on his hands whilst the 'war' with Negan went on).

Scenes of him playing with his sister Judith and painting matching handprints, one big and one small were especially touching.

We switched back and forth between some of the groups as they fought to take control over the saviours. Carol and Morgan were a tough fighting duo as they dealt with the guys who had tried to take over 'The Kingdom'.

But the main focus of this episode was the fact that poor Carl was dying, he gave some touching speeches to his dad and Michonne before asking to end his life on his terms.

At times I found that the episode dragged a little bit and I found myself wondering where Daryl was. He is one of the main reasons I watch the show and he doesn't get nearly enough air time in my opinion. I felt like saying, 'OK, OK...its sad that Coral is dying, its sad that he is about to turn into a Zombie, but lets get back to the main man, shall we?' When I saw shots of him holding Judith I almost climbed up and licked the screen, but I held myself back.

The overall feel for the episode was good to be honest, it was a bit drawn out at times but it was played out quite well. I appreciate that the cast, producers and even the fans would want a good send off for Chandler Riggs; he had been in all 8 seasons of Walking Dead and I suppose it was a rather touching, beautiful way to say goodbye to the boy we had watched grow up.

Chandler Riggs

All I ask for in future episodes is more of this fella. 

Tata for now!

S x